Atrophy
I sigh my song of loss
Profound sense of frustration
At your hair now brittle and coarse
Which fuels my sense of desolation
You’ve been old my whole life
But strong in belief – and mind
Never guessed it could come to this
Or that I’d possess thoughts this unkind
Horrified by suffering
Amazed by the little things
Your paper-thin delicate skin
Each revelation acts like bee stings
Malignant emotions
Swollen with a sense of shame
Loved ones try to absorb your pain
Yet I’m searching for someone to blame
Ocean frost in my heart
I clutch to such small details
Firm grip or large blue eyes open
Former comfort of my hometown fails
May 5 you turned 95
Autumn has moved to winter
When did I last see my Grandma?
Easter Monday: for that I’m bitter
Church associations
Are hard for me to accept
Just like cellular atrophy
It represents what I wish to reject
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